"The Clockmaker..."
Qi Mian gazed at the sunlit doorway, murmuring Sunday's words despite herself.
"Old man, have you heard of this person?"
Chao Tianxiang stood up and looked toward the doorway, curiosity on her face.
Meng Shu stood beside her and shook his head.
"Never heard of him. Probably an alias. Just like how your compass always points ahead. Hahaha, we're truly getting old. From here on... the world belongs to these young people."
"Yes, we really can't keep up with young people these days."
Sunday and the others left the tavern and walked down the street.
"Teacher, you looked so cool back there!"
Ning Rongrong gave Sunday a thumbs-up.
Sunday glanced at her and reached out to pat her head.
"I wasn't trying to look cool. It's the truth. People's kindness is buried deep within their hearts, locked away beneath layer upon layer of disguises.
What I do has never been false virtue. I simply want to awaken their suppressed conscience."
Walking beside Sunday, Yu Feng recalled the scene in the tavern and wholeheartedly agreed with his words.
"But Teacher, will doing this really help?"
"It will. A single spark can set the prairie ablaze."
Three months later, in a mountain village on the border between the two great empires.
Sunday and the others were busy harvesting vegetables in the fields alongside a group of farmers.
"Sir, you're saying someone died in the mountains a little while ago?"
Sunday tossed the cabbage in his hands to Ning Rongrong and looked at the old farmer beside him.
The old farmer straightened his back, patted it, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and nodded.
"Yes, it was... about ten days ago. Old Six's boy went into the mountains to gather firewood and never came back. We went in to look